A Boy Like Me
by nodistancelefttorun
Summary: "I like him. Not Sam, or Puck, or any of those guys. I just want him." cheerio!kurt and nerd!blaine one-shot. Rated T partly for language, but mostly because I like rating things T.


**A/N: I'm not really sure what this is. I was listening to A Boy Like Me by Patrick Wolf – he is amazing, okay, you should all listen to him – and this little thing just came to me.**

**The centered words in italics are lyrics from A Boy Like Me. So they are not mine. Obviously.**

**And I always forget these but I (very sadly) don't own glee.**

* * *

**A Boy Like Me**

_A boy like me should shut those books, join the army_

"I honestly don't understand why you even like that dork," Quinn said. "Why bother with him when you can have Sam or Puck or Finn?"

"First, Finn is my brother, so ew," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "And second, I like him. Not Sam, or Puck, or any of those guys. I just want him."

"Really? Him?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy sitting alone on a bench a short distance away. He was wearing proper black slacks, a white button-up with a dorky vest over it. To top it off, he was wearing a huge red bowtie. His hair was slicked back with a ridiculous amount of hair gel.

"Yeah," Kurt breathed, gazing over at the boy who had his eyes set on the book perched on his lap.

He looked so small and vulnerable like that, with tons of jocks towering around him and just waiting for him to provoke them so they could snap. But Kurt knew that the boy was stronger and better than all of them.

The boy didn't even glance up as some of them approached him, with snarls of "why are you so ugly?" and "come on, fag, let's fight".

_A boy like me would never be seen fighting for peace_

The boy didn't even flinch. He turned the page of his book and kept reading. The taunts being thrown at him didn't even scratch his carefully laid facade. At least it didn't seem like it did. Kurt knew better.

"Honestly, Kurt," Quinn said, rolling her eyes. "You are insane. Who would even want to go near that wreck? Just look at me. I have Finn, and I couldn't be happier. He's strong and handsome, and did you know he's applying for the army when he graduates?"

"I don't want a soldier for a boyfriend," Kurt said distantly, his eyes still trained at the boy with the book. "I'd much rather have him."

_A boy like me should know much better than to raise his flag in stormy weather_

The circle of jocks quickly grew tired of the boy not showing even the slightest sign of fear. One of them, a tall blonde guy with muscles flexing threateningly under his football jacket, kicked the book from the boy's lap. It landed on the floor with the spine upwards. Another jock, a heavy boy with cold eyes, stepped forward and in one swift movement slammed his foot down on the book, the spine cracking and breaking beneath his weight. He mauled his feet down even more for good measure to make sure it was properly damaged before stepping off and going back to his safe spot in the line of bullies, a cruel grin plastered to his face.

The boy almost fell forward to the floor, picking up the book and carefully folding it closed again. The spine of it was cracked and severely damaged, but he nonetheless stroked it affectionately and clutched it to his chest before getting to his feet. Despite the bullies surrounding him, knowing he didn't stand a chance against them, he held himself tall and raised his chin ever so slightly.

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the leader of them all – Karofsky. He furiously stared back, pupils only dark slits.

_I just can't get enough electric shocks_

"I can't believe no one has reported this," Kurt said quietly.  
Quinn eyed him through narrowed eyes. "Don't do anything you'll regret, Kurt. You will just get kicked off the squad. It's not worth it."

_It's not worth it._

Kurt watched as Karofsky took a step forwards to serve that initial blow. Kurt had seen it before – had _experienced_ it before. He had been in the very same spot as that boy – his back as straight as possible, his head held high and proud, but his heart throbbing painfully as he just waited for that fist to collide with his jaw.  
But then he had joined the Cheerio squad, and suddenly he was immune to all forms of bullying. He became one of the faceless – heartless – people who stood by and watched as kid after kid got beat down until they transferred, got landed in the hospital or simply succumbed and became the jocks' ever-faithful slave.

"Don't you smile at me, fag," Karofsky hissed, his fist held only inches from the boy's face.

"I'm not smiling," the boy said, his voice leveled and calm despite his position.

Kurt could hear their voices so much clearer now, like thunder in his ears, and he suddenly realized it was because he had moved. He had left the secure, privileged spot among the cheerleaders and crossed the line from _faceless (but safe) witness_ to _dangerous interference_. He had defied them, and they did not allow defiance among their servants. For that was what he was nowadays – their slave. But that ended now.

_I want all this and all I shall have_

The boy's sparkling, hazel eyes immediately found Kurt's blue ones when he made his way over through the crowd. The bullies must have seen his eyes flicker, for they turned around and noticed Kurt approaching.

"Stay out of it, Hummel," Karofsky snapped, turning back to the other boy.

Kurt didn't obey. He continued forward, slipped between the wall of jocks and with a gentle hand on the boy's chest, he pushed him behind him – forming a human wall behind Karofsky's fist and the boy.

"What do you think you are doing?" Karofsky growled, lowering his fist in surprise.

Kurt didn't respond. He turned around, with his vulnerable back to the hostile crowd, and affectionately cupped the boy's cheek.

"Blaine, are you okay?"

The boy just stared at him, and then gave a shaky nod. His stubborn refusal to show fear seemed to falter when Kurt had stepped in front of him, and now his eyes told Kurt all about his hidden emotions. For a moment, the only thing that existed in Kurt's world were those hazel eyes. They reflected the terror and pain that he knew was to be found in the boy's heart as well, and he leaned forward to press a fleeting kiss to his trembling lips as some form of consolation.

"I told you not to interfere," Blaine whispered finally. "I told you to stay safe."

Kurt shook his head, and let his thumb swipe across the boy's bottom lip.

_A boy like me don't ever give up_

"I don't care if they hurt me," he said, and pressed their lips together once more. "I just need you to be safe."

He then let his hand fall, and instead entwined their fingers. Blaine smiled faintly at him. With a light tug on his hand, Kurt pulled him with him and once again slipped past the bullies. They were too shocked to move or speak or even hurt them, and simply stared at the place where they had been moments ago.  
Kurt paid no attention to anyone they passed. People stared, judged and cringed as they walked past – and he didn't care in the slightest. All this time he had been afraid of what people would think of him if he were seen with Blaine, and now he realized that none of it mattered. All that mattered was the warm fingers now digging into his palm, desperately clinging to him. He squeezed back.

"I'm not really sure what to do now," Kurt admitted, and stopped them both in their tracks. The crowd around them was thinner and there weren't as many eyes judging them here. Blaine rubbed his thumb against Kurt knuckles, and smiled softly.

"Don't give up hope ever. We're figuring something out."

_A boy like me don't ever give up, give up his dream, no_

_A boy like me don't ever give up, give up his dream, no_

_A boy like me don't ever give up, give up his dream, no_


End file.
